


All He Could See Was Her

by mostlybritts



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Sokka (Avatar), Canon Compliant, During Canon, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Missing Scene, POV Sokka (Avatar), Protective Sokka (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Sokka is okay with Kataang, Sokka's not oblivious, These kids grew up to soon, kataangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlybritts/pseuds/mostlybritts
Summary: A missing moments fic with the Gaang from 'The Guru' on. Mostly Sokka POV. Mostly canon-compliant with TV series. Lots of Kataang. Because I can.Look, these kids are not alright. They put on a good face, but we all know there's a lot more going on there.Latest Chapter: Time passes while Aang is unconscious, but Katara makes sure she and her friends keep the airbender company.
Relationships: Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Hakoda & Katara (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Sokka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	1. All He Could See Was Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Aang travel back to Ba Sing Se after learning that Katara is in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during 'The Guru'/'Crossroads of Destiny'.

> The thought chakra is located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachment. Meditate on what attaches you to this world. Now, let all of those attachments go. Let them flow down the river, forgotten. 
> 
> _\- The Guru_

**Sokka**

I think I first realized it spending time with Dad again.

It had been amazing, being back with him. Maybe amazing wasn't the right word. Relieving? No. But I'd been able to breathe again. It had just felt... right. Like something that had gone wrong inside me untwisted. Maybe amazing was the right word.

I was with my _Dad_. I'd spent so many nights since he'd left lying awake, just wishing for him to be there. I'd tried my best to be the protector for our family, for our village. Not that I'd done it well. But I had tried all the same, and the weight was heavy. I was ready for him to be back — and not just because I missed him — but because I wanted it to stop. I didn't want to be the leader any more. Leading meant I was the last line of defense. Leading meant showing no fear. It meant not showing a lot of things.

And I felt... false. Because whatever I said and did, I was just as scared as the rest of them. Maybe even more so. Because I knew their defender was a fake. The village didn't need me. It needed a man, one who was as brave on the inside as the out. It needed Dad.

And here he was. But it wasn't what I thought it would be. _He_ wasn't who I thought he would be.

Not that he had changed. Sure, there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes. And maybe his clothes had faded a bit and fell a little looser around the middle. But he was the same height. I — well — I was not. When he looked at me, we were almost on the same level. He treated me as such.

And I'd never felt so proud, getting to see him in this new way. But I know now that I'll never be able to go back. To that height. To those childhood days. To that security.

To that illusion.

I guess that's what everyone learns at one point or another. Maybe it took me longer than most. Maybe because Dad had been gone, my view of him hadn't grown with me. In my heart, I'd still held him in that amber glow, in that almost spiritual larger-than-life way we all do as kids.

We all do... don't we? 

Well, I had. But now I had to let it go and accept my new reality.

There was no stopping this. There was no stepping down or giving up. No other last line of defense. Not for me, anyway. There never had been, really. People try. Dad had tried, but he'd had to leave. Mom had tried.

Strangely, though, the realization was also... kind of a relief. Like I'd known all along, but was only now allowing myself to accept it. And now that I had, I could do something about it. I could be brave in actuality rather than pretense, the way I had when I thought that bravery meant fearlessness.

It meant when Aang flew back down that day, I understood where I needed to be.

Dad did, too. I saw him appraise the Avatar, looking like he wanted to do more, but there was no time. And before I was ready, I was wrapped in a firm hug.

"I am — _so_ — proud of you."

And we were off.

I watched him grow smaller and smaller on the deck of the ship as we rose into the sky, just like he had that day nearly three years ago. But I was doing the leaving this time. Was this what he had felt like, leaving Katara and me? I bit my tongue and blinked my eyes. He had his mission. And I had mine.

I turned away and tried to settle myself more securely in the crook of Appa's neck. Aang was pushing the bison faster than ever before, his knuckles white on the reins.

I didn't even want to ask. Not yet. Not after seeing that look in his eyes. After spending months with the airbender, I'd come to appreciate his calming presence. He was — for the most part — a happy kid, guileless and without pretense. It was refreshing.

It was also annoying.

Because how could he be so... okay? After what he'd been though? It was galling. And more than a little bit inspiring.

Which was also annoying.

Not that I hadn't seen other sides of him. After all, we'd run the gamut of emotions together on our travels. I'd seen his normally docile gray eyes tinged with grief, horror, even terrifying fury. But what was in them today I'd only seen once before, when General Fong and his soldiers tried to push him into the Avatar State. When they'd trapped my sister. Desperation.

"What happened?" I finally asked.

"Katara's been captured," Aang said stonily, staring straight ahead.

"Is she okay?"

"No. Maybe? I mean, I think so." His voice was unusually tight. "At least she was. I left as soon as I saw—"

"You saw what? Her? How?"

Aang frowned. "I was sort of above the world — or beyond it — in the cosmos..." he paused, seeming to search for better words.

"Avatar magic," I cut in. "Got it. Fine. So what did you see?"

"She was in chains."

"Was anyone with her?"

"I don't know. It was sort of blurred out around the edges, like all I could see was her."

"Where was she?"

"I don't know."

"So what do you know?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

I had to grip Appa's fur as a ball of wind emanated from him.

Aang closed his eyes, breathed out and the air stilled again. "I know she's in trouble." 

I breathed out as well. "It'll be alright," I said, not sure if I was speaking to him, or to myself.

/ / / 

We flew through the night. Well, Aang did. He said he wasn't tired, that he wanted to stay up with Appa. That might have been the case. Or he might have wanted to be alone with his thoughts. I didn't press him. I had thoughts of my own. 

His story was troubling me. I couldn't understand it. How could he see her, but not her circumstances? Had he been in the Avatar state? And the vision- was it thrust upon him somehow, or had he been in control? And if so, why was it so restricted? Were there limits to the ability, or did he simply lack the skill? 

_All I could see was her._

The words echoed in my head. And the look on his face when he'd said them. I couldn't quite pin it down. Fear? Sure. Worry? Definitely. But there was something else there, too. Guilt maybe? I couldn't see how. It wasn't his fault the way things went down after we left. Or was there something he wasn't telling me? 

Then again, maybe it was just another one of those things he felt compelled to blame himself for. The poor kid kid had the worst guilt complex.

But I wasn't getting anywhere. And one of us at least needed to be rested before we arrived tomorrow. I screwed my eyes shut and clamped down my thoughts. I would just have to try to coax more out of him in the morning.

/ / /

Aang did manage to stay awake. Somewhat. His eyes were open, but he wasn't fully there. At least, he didn't seem to be — not even blinking as I sat up and stretched.

"Hey, Aang?" I asked. 

Nothing.

"Earth to Airbender," I said a bit louder, waving my hands in front of his face. 

He blinked and shook his head. 

Maybe he _had_ been asleep. Can you sleep with your eyes open? 

"Whoa, what is it, Sokka?"

"Whoa, yourself," I said, now that he was looking at me. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes a bit bloodshot. How long had he sat without blinking? "Here, take a drink," — I handed him my waterskin — "and eat something."

He eyed me warily as I began pulling jerky out of my pocket. "Sokka, you know I don't—"

"Calm down, just give me a minute," I said, finally taking out a peach and brushing all the dried jerky bits off. It was a little smushed. Aang looked at it dubiously.

"Eat," I repeated, putting it in his hands and taking the reins. "You need some calories. You look terrible."

"Thanks," Aang grumbled.

"You're welcome," I said, ignoring the sarcasm. 

He brushed it off a bit more, but then settled back and took a bite.

"Good," I said. "Eat that, and then close your eyes."

"I don't need to sleep."

"I didn't say you did." I paused. "You do, but I know I can't make you. Still, at least try to rest your eyes a bit, okay? For me?"

Aang huffed.

"Fine. For Katara."

He sighed in frustration. But he also closed his eyes.

When he woke a few hours later, he glared at me like I'd betrayed him. But he looked better. He reached for reins and I let him take them.

"Look, I didn't make you sleep. I just didn't stop it."

"I know."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just feel guilty. How can I sleep when Katara is — ?" he sighed, deflating — "I don't even know...."

I nodded my head. "Trust me, I get it. I know it seems like we're doing nothing. But we're not. We're doing what we have to to get back to her. And we're not even that far off." I pointed ahead to a line on the horizon. The walls of Ba Sing Se.

Aang looked up and his face lightened a bit. That was better. I just needed to get him thinking more constructively.

"So.... you were in a... cosmos thingy?"

"Something like that."

"Neat. That's just... neat."

"I guess."

"You guess? Well, to a mere mortal like myself, it sounds pretty impressive."

"Sure. I mean, it was, actually." Aang grinned. "Even by immortal standards."

"I bet. And... you could see people?"

"Well, I saw Katara."

"Sure, sure. But could you have seen others, do you think? If you'd taken the time?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I'm not even sure how I did it. Maybe because I was thinking about her."

"You were thinking about her?"

Aang reddened. "Well, I had to think about a lot of things, and a lot of people. It just happened to be her that I was thinking about at the time."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, that makes sense." I tried to put him at ease so we could get to the more important bit. "But do you think you could do it again?"

"No."

"Are you sure? I just mean — well — strategically speaking, this could be a game-changer."

"I don't think so."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know exactly. It's… complicated. But I think it's not just a matter of _thinking_ of someone. I think it also has to do with having a _connection_ with someone."

I let a barrage of questions die in my mouth and swallowed. "Okay, that makes sense. I think. So spying on Ozai is probably out."

"Probably," Aang laughed weakly.

"But... maybe you could use it to help us out now? Could you check back in on Katara? Maybe —"

"No."

"But what if you —"

"I've already tried!" Aang stared down at the reins in his hands before looking back up at me. "How could you not think I'd have already tried?"

A good question. "I'm sorry. Of course you would have. But you can't blame me for trying in my own way." What else could I ask? "So... you didn't see anything else, but did you maybe sense anything? About what kind of trouble Katara's in?"

"I don't know. In my vision, I just knew she needed help."

"It'd be nice if your Avatar powers could be just a little more specific from time to time."

A sudden rumble and plume of dust caught my attention below. "What is that?!"

My eyes widened as we got closer. It was Toph. Of course it was. Skiing across the earth like it was nothing. What couldn't that girl do?

"Need a ride?" I shouted.

Distracted, she lost her stride and crash-landed spectacularly. Aang and I both grimaced. That had to hurt.

"So how did it go with the guru?" She asked once we got going again. "Did you master the Avatar State?"

"Uh..." Aang trailed off, looking away.

That wasn't good. I hadn't thought to ask about it earlier. Truth be told, I hadn't even thought of it, not since finding out about my sister. "Aang... are you okay?"

"I'm great," he said, turning back, "It went great with the guru. I completely mastered the Avatar state." He tried to laugh convincingly and failed. "Yeah..."

So he hadn't. I should have known. He said he'd left as soon as he saw Katara.

I frowned. This really wasn't good. But, what was the alternative? Would I rather he'd ignored his vision? How long would it have taken him to finish? And what would I have done in his place? That one wasn't even a question. The exact same thing. So what was bothering me?

I didn't understand the Avatar state or the breadth of power that Aang could command. Only that, for all its enormity, it seemed to come with a lot of strings attached. But from what I'd heard, it sounded like — for one cosmic moment at least —with all the power in the world, and perhaps the ability to tap into untold realms of knowledge... all he had seen was Katara.

I looked at him again. We'd crossed into Ba Sing Se. Now that we were so close, his face had furrowed with focus again.

We'd been through so much, the three — now four — of us. But there was still a long way to go. A long way and steep, especially for him. So many things to do. And even though we were all there to help, I knew deep down that, in the end, it all hinged on him. 

Because if there was a last line of defense, it was the Avatar.

So even though, because of him, we were about to save my baby sister, I still didn't know if I should be relieved or worried.

If all he could see was her.


	2. The One Who Needed Saving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka, Toph, and Kuei wait for Aang to return with Katara from the Crystal Catacombs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during 'Crossroads of Destiny'.

**Sokka**

"Aang, where are you?" I whispered yet again. We were circling on Appa, watching for any sign of him and Iroh returning with my sister. I didn't much care if Zuko came back with them or not. Actually, I preferred if he didn't.

"I'm sure they're alright, Sokka. Iroh genuinely wanted to help." Toph said quietly beside me, accurately guessing my thoughts and mood. As usual. It didn't even surprise me anymore. 

"I'm sure he did. It's his nephew I'm more worried about."

Toph's closed her eyes, her arm around mine tightening as we turned once more, her other hand clutching Appa's fur.

"You okay there?" I asked.

"Just great," she grimaced. She couldn't anticipate the turns, and she was used to being able to sense everything.

I gave her arm a squeeze. "Hang in there, Beifong _. _ They shouldn't be much longer now."

They shouldn't have been  _ this _ long. And now the sun was going down. It was going to be harder to spot them and-

"Aang won't let anything happen to her."

I sighed. "I know." And I did. Aang was the only one in world I trusted to put Katara's safety above all others. Aside from myself.

"Why didn't  _ you _ go?"

"Maybe I should have."

"I was surprised you didn't. You've been in knots about it all day."

"Well, you know... Between the two tasks, I thought the bigger challenge would be reasoning with the Earth King. It didn't seem wise to send a firebender and a twelve-year-old."

" _ I'm _ a twelve-year-old," Toph bristled.

"Which is why  _ I _ came. I'm the talker. You're the... muscle."

She punched him in the side.

"What? I thought you'd take that as a compliment!"

"I did," she smirked.

"No, Bosco. Stay here in the middle." Behind them, a very anxious monarch was trying to reason with his bear. "Stop rolling around!"

Toph snorted. "To be fair, Snoozles, I don't think it'd have mattered much who you sent. There's not much reasoning with that one."

"I can hear you, you know," the king said, and wiped his brow. "It's okay, Bosco, it'll all be over soon." He paused and spoke a bit louder, "It  _ will _ all be over soon, right?"

"Just as soon as we get my sister," I called back over my shoulder.

"And how long will that take?"

"It'll take as long as it takes, okay?" Toph shouted. "Sheesh."

"But," he squeaked, undeterred, "are you sure it's... safe? To stick around like this? So visibly?"

_ No _ , I thought. In fact, I was quite sure it wasn't safe at all.

"What I wouldn't give for some earth right now," Toph muttered. "Maybe I should carry a pouch of it around like Katara. Then I could smack some sense into him."

"As an Earth Kingdom citizen, isn't that  _ your _ king you're talking about smacking?" I whispered.

Toph shrugged, "All the more reason. Someone ought to do it."

I shook my head. "Everything will be fine," I shouted back. "The situation is in the Avatar's hands, after all. I'm sure he's got it under control."

I hoped that were true.

"I'm not even sure I  _ am _ an Earth Kingdom citizen anymore." Toph was still musing. "I've left my home, my parents, my city... why not my country, as well?" She grinned and put on her more theatrical voice. "I'll abandon all trappings of authority and live only under my  _ own _ dominion. Ha, ha, ha!"

"You plan to put the rest of us under your dominion as well?"

"I already have. Hadn't you noticed?"

I smiled. "Hey, we're about to turn again. Hold on."

Toph's grip tightened preemptively, but not as much as before. "Thanks," she said.

We finished the rotation and I went back to squinting at the ground. The sun had disappeared now. We were going to have to start circling lower to have any chance of spotting them. But why weren't they back? And why  _ hadn't _ I gone?

_ You know why _ , a voice echoed inside me.

"I'm afraid I messed up," I said, my voice breaking on the last word. I cleared my throat.

"Messed up what?"

"Not going down there myself. You were right. I didn't need to be the one to talk to the Earth King. I didn't choose to stay up here because I thought I was the only one qualified to do it. If I'm honest, I let Aang go after Katara because I thought it would have been selfish of me to go after her myself. Because I thought  _ he _ had the better chance of getting her out. But now I don't know if I made the right decision and  —  "

"Stop it, Sokka. You can't second guess yourself."

"No, Toph, I  _ have _ to. Look, you have earth, Katara has water, Aang has... almost everything. I just have my mind."

"Don't forget Boomerang." 

I rolled my eyes.

"You're overthinking this."

"No I'm not. Think about it. You guys all train in your elements. I have to train in mine, and  _ overthinking _ is part of it. If I don't analyze every plan and decision I make, how will I get better at making them? How will I  — ?"

Toph punched me in the ribs. "You're not analyzing yourself, you're  _ blaming _ yourself. And you don't even know if there's something to be blamed for yet."

"I don't know  _ anything _ !" I blurted. "But I would, if I were down there right now."

"Then let's go."

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's pull this bison over, hop on down there and see what's going on."

"Toph, that's ridiculous. What about the Earth King? We can't just leave him by himself."

"Bear Man'll be fine."

"Um... actually," came the small voice from behind them. "If I could just disagree with you on that point  — "

"Stay out of it!" She snapped.

"Toph, calm down! We're not leaving him. And besides, Appa's too big to come with us. We can't leave him, either. If we're going to have any hope of getting out of here, the best thing we can do is wait and be ready to fly at a moment's notice."

Toph just smiled.

"Ugh..." I conceded. "Point made."

"Exactly. You made a good decision. I don't know if it's the  _ right _ one. Sometimes there isn't a right one. All you can do is do your best, and keep on doing it. That's what you do, Sokka. You do it well, and you know it."

I sighed. "When did you get to be so smart?"

" _ Get _ to be?"

"Fine," I conceded. "You're right. You're right about everything, Toph Beifong. It's just... it's hard, you know?"

"When you don't know to help someone you love? Yeah, I  — "

"Look!" The Earth king shouted. "I think I see them!"

"Where?!" I twisted to see where he was pointing. 

Katara was racing toward us up the river. Up a torrent. She  _ was _ the torrent, the moon shining down on her form jutting out from a cresting wave, her arms cradling...

"Oh, no."

"What!? What is it?" Toph cried.

"Hold on," I said, flicking the reins, but Appa needed little urging from me. We careened down at breakneck speed, landing none-too-gracefully beside the river. I was ready to jump down and help them up, but there was no need. Katara waterbent herself up next to us on Appa's head, drenching the rest of us in the process.

"Yip, yip! Yip, yip!!" I shouted, again rather unnecessarily, for the bison was already taking off and speeding away.

"What's going on?" Toph asked.

"Here let's move, give them some room," I said, moving to help her climb up Appa's back.

" _ BUT WHERE'S AANG!? _ " She shouted.

I stared at her. Everyone did.

_ No. _

She couldn't hear his heartbeat.

"Katara!" I whirled, looking at her, looking at him.

She bit back a sob.

I gritted my teeth. "He's going to be fine," I said to Toph, somehow keeping my voice even, and pulling her up and away to give them space. "She's going to fix him."

I looked down at Katara and nodded at her, willing her strength. 

She  _ would _ fix him. She had to.

Her mouth tightened and she nodded back at me, blinking back her tears.

We all watched, silent, as she laid Aang back against Appa. He looked so small. He was small, but I'd never really noticed it as much as I did now. Now that he was so pale, and so quiet. 

So still. 

Katara pulled the vial of spirit water from around her neck and summoned the liquid to her, where it glowed and circled tighter and tighter until it formed a shimmering disc in her hand.

_ Please work _ .

She pulled Aang forward and placed the radiant orb of water and light into his back. 

And his  _ back _ . It was... just... 

But her hand was over it, and the water was in it, and it gleamed. 

And then it faded.

A strangled cry escaped Katara's throat and her head dropped to his.

Toph buried her head in my chest, and all I could do was hold her and watch my sister, as all her tears and all our hopes fell down to the darkness below.

And for a second, I thought that was it. That everything we'd gone through and worked for was done and gone and over.

But then another glow made me catch my breath, and the sound of another breath — _his breath_ — made my sister look up. 

Toph did, too, her eyes shining, mirroring my sister's as she stared in wonder down at the boy in her arms, and I stared in wonder at her.

She had done it. She had saved... everything. And all day I'd thought she'd been the one who needed saving.

But even as hope swelled back into my lungs, I felt the chill in the air as we rose higher above the city, the lights below dimming.

"That's it," the king said, a grave sound of finality in it. "The Earth Kingdom has fallen."

So it had. And so had we.

I looked down at the city. Toph stared down at her hands.

And we soared away from the walls and the secrets. Beaten.

But not done.


	3. Before and After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara struggles with her feelings beside an unconcious Aang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.

> I know sometimes it hurts more to hope. It hurts more to care. But you have to promise me that you won't stop caring.
> 
> - _Katara, The Serpent's Pass_

**Katara**

Nothing. Think of nothing. Everything is fine. Go back to nothing.

The blue lines undulated as he breathed. Just a whisper of movement, shallow. Up. Down. Like ripples in a pond when the breeze was low, or the tide when the moon was dark. In, out. Not always steady. Not always even. But there. But sometimes you had to look for it. Sometimes when that wasn't enough, you had to hold your hand above his lips and keep it still when it was shaking so that you wouldn't miss what you were feeling for, that invisible and must elusive element. 

But then you'd feel it and you could breathe again, not realizing until then that you had been holding your breath too. That your lightheadedness might have something to do with your unconscious syncing of breaths, of breathing, of living. 

_Now your destinies are intertwined with his._

But intertwining seemed too orderly a word for this. Too intentional. She'd been tangled. And there was no way of telling where the end of the threads were or how to begin undoing the knots that had bound her so tightly to him.

So she sat and stared, just to be sure those lines were still moving, that his chest was still rising. 

His shoulders shifted ever so slightly, the lines rolling down his arms. She liked his arms. There was new definition there, new strength hard won these last few months. And not just in his arms. His chest, his legs, even his face was changing. Broadening in some areas, narrowing in others, the man he was becoming slowly and meticulously being sculpted from the child he'd been. But right now he was neither. Caught somewhere in between the before and the after. Tentative. Ephemeral.

Before she hadn't truly noticed all the changes, like the way his jaw was sharpening or the calluses on his fingertips. There hadn't been time. 

Now she was a captive audience. 

And in her unguarded moments she found herself studying these details. Like she needed to memorize him. Because these last few days had been horrific, but strangely precious. Because tomorrow he would change again. Or tomorrow he might...

No. 

He was stronger than that. She didn't know where his mind had traveled to, but wherever it was, he was fighting. She was sure of it. He'd come for her in the crystal cavern. Fought for her. He'd do it again. 

And she would fight for him. Mending the cuts and the burns and the bruises. Mending his unsteady heart. 

And when she wasn't mending, she was watching. For signs of fading. For signs of improvement. For his long lashes to flutter. For his lips to speak, to move, to do anything at all.

She wondered what it would be like to feel them against hers.

Which was stupid for so many reasons, not least of which was she already knew, didn't she? She's done it once.

_But that was different,_ another part of her insisted. That was before.

But before what? Before this? And what was this? And when did it start? 

Before she knew it. That's all she was certain of. By the time she was aware something was there, it was already too late. She'd been tangled, all right. But when had it happened? The change in him. The change in her. The change in _them_. 

She had felt a connection right away. There was no denying that. As soon as he'd opened his eyes on that iceberg, she had known he was special. Even before she'd found out he was the avatar.

_But you'd guessed._

Maybe. Subconsciously. 

It didn't matter. She'd felt he was important. That his very existence changed everything. And that in being the one who brought his existence about... 

That was a strange way of looking at it. A strange way to word it, even in her own head. She wasn't his mother. She didn't want to be. But she had returned him to the world, a rebirth of a sort. And she couldn't deny that some of her feelings, especially in the beginning, had bordered on the maternal. Personally she preferred the term protective. 

Yes, the connection had been immediate. Some threads had already started weaving their way between them. But that wasn't the moment. He was... hope, an embodiment of hope. Maybe just an _idea_ of hope. But he wasn't real to her just yet. Not the way he would become. It was a slow process, full of surprises and missteps. Like learning to dance.

Yes, she'd been committed. From the get-go. She wanted to protect him.

_Just wanting to be needed. To be important in your own right._

That was probably true. She'd wanted him to lean on her. But she hadn't been ready and willing and _trusting_ enough to lean on him in turn. Not yet.

But as they journeyed together, the idea of who he was, ethereal and flimsy, began to be replaced with... him. Just him. He wasn't the one who must save the world. He was Aang. He wasn't a savior. He was a boy who'd run away, who loved flying and hated sea prunes, and always knew how to make her smile. A guilt-ridden adrenaline junkie with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Strangely enough, when she thought about it, it was his mistakes more often then not that shattered the false image and made him real to her. It took his often reckless antics for her to see his loneliness and insecurity, his defeats to see his determination. Even his betrayal with the map, selfish though it was, showed just how much he needed them. And her trust in him? If she was being honest, that didn't come until after he'd burned her. Seeing the torture he felt behind his eyes and the lengths he'd gone to since to ensure her protection, had secured it.

His mistakes. That made sense.

Because it hadn't been that moment with the volcano. Sokka's words. The fortune-teller's prediction. Sure, it had introduced the _notion._ But it was only that, an idea of love, like the false idea she'd had of Aang. And it hadn't been their kiss in the lovers' cave either. True, the idea had grown by then, and so had her attachment. But it was fragile, not much more than a daydream. Which was why she didn't press it. She'd even pretended not to hear Aang when he tried to talk about it. Push too hard and it might break.

No. It wasn't a prophecy. Or a kiss. These things were part of their journey, even part of their entangling, and would always be treasured memories. But it took a harder moment to push her from the before to the after, from a childhood crush to a... whatever this was.

She'd been afraid she was going to lose him in that desert. Not his life, perhaps, but his _self_. Everything that made him who he was and who she loved. Who she needed. She hadn't truly known she needed him until that point. 

She knew now. Even more than she did then. Because now she'd nearly lost him for real. 

Maybe that's why she was suddenly overwhelmed with unbidden feelings. Why just the sight of him brought new...

She looked decidedly away and closed her eyes. What was the wrong with her? Aang lay before her. Helpless. And that's what she was here for. To _help_ him. Not to ogle him. She should be focusing on him, not herself. But it was hard to watch him without _watching_ him. And she needed to. What if he stopped breathing again? What if one of a hundred other things went wrong when she wasn't looking? The world needed him. And she... no. She did need him. Butwhat she needed right now didn't matter.

So she stared without seeing, noting the rise and fall of his chest and little else. Dulling her mind and thinking of nothing. Nothing.

Because what else could she do? Her other choices were to give in to the panic and hysteria that were always there, simmering just below the surface, or distract herself. Find herself wondering and wishing again. And then feeling guilty about it. Neither was acceptable. Neither helped Aang or anyone else. 

And only hurt her. 

So she chose the third option. She chose emptiness. She chose nothing.

She'd done it before. The nothingness was a tool. It helped her eat when she had no hunger. It helped her act when she had no will. Being no one helped her survive. It would help Aang survive too.

Maybe it was hypocritical. After all, she'd just been thinking of those terrible days in the desert. The way his eyes had blazed. How much of that anger had been there all along? Did losing Appa cause all of it? Or did it just break the dam? 

She could understand a dam of rage. She also understood his shutting down. Just like what she was doing now. But she'd asked him not to. She'd asked him to care.

But this was different. More was at stake. And his life hung in the balance.

That settled it. She was caught in the middle, too. Her own before and after. But she would do what she had to to make it to the other side, and to bring him back to the world once again. Become no one. Shield herself with nothingness. Arm herself, too. No foe would get past. Not even death. She'd worry about feelings- hers and everyone else's- later. After.

But before she did, she touched his cheek one last time.

'I'll make you a deal,' she whispered. 'When you wake up, I will too.'


	4. Of Crabs and Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang is still unconscious. Sokka tries to keep the group afloat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.
> 
> References events from the 'It's Only Natural' comic from 'The Lost Adventures' anthology. (Sokka attempts to teach Bosco how to be a real bear. It goes about as well as you'd expect. King and bear depart to explore the world on their own.)

**Sokka**

Bears.

I ground my teeth, splashing saltwater in my face, knowing it would do little enough to wash the day and my frustrations away.

Stupid. Bears. And Stupid. Kings.

"Aah!" My eyes flew open to find a small crab dangling from my left hand. I flung it to the sand and sucked on the throbbing finger.

Stupid bears, stupid kings. And. Stupid. Crabs.

The little monster started retreating to the water.

"Oh, no you don't," I shouted and gave it a kick further up the beach. "You try to eat me, I'll eat you back!"

I heard her laugh before I felt the ground shake and a little stone ring shot up around my quarry.

"Oh, hey Toph," I said, rearranging my features to something less dour.

"Wow. Where've you been all day? You seem..."

"What? Gallant? Audacious? The very model of manliness and masculinity?"

"Like you've had a tangle with a hog-monkey. And lost."

"Technically it was a boarcupine. But yeah. You'd be a mess, too, if you'd been trying to teach a royal pet to survive in the wild all day."

"You talking about the bear or the king?"

I rubbed a hand over my face. "Either one. Doesn't matter, really. They're both gone now."

"What?"

"Yeah. Took off a few minutes ago. Kuei said they just needed to experience the world for themselves."

"Wow. That's actually not a bad idea..." She grinned. "I give them two days."

"I give them two _hours_ ," I said, returning the smile. "You didn't see them try to fish. But hey, at least I scored a souvenir." I put Kuei's abandoned crown on my head. "How does _King Sokka_ sound?"

"I am _not_ calling you that."

"Yeah, I didn't figure you would." I took it back off and looked at the fire further down the beach. "So what have you been up to?"

"Eh, not much," she said, chewing a fingernail. "Just relaxing. Being disgustingly impressive. The usual."

"I would expect nothing less." My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten since that morning. "Say, you don't know if there's any supper left, do you?"

"I doubt it. They didn't catch much today. And everyone's a bit grouchy about it. I used to think the hunger moods were just a _you_ thing. But now I know they're an integral part of your cultural heritage."

I laughed and eyed the crab in the cage.

"Maybe there's something we can do about that."

Fifteen minutes later and we had a freshly earthbended crate full of crustaceans. It didn't even seem fair.

Toph relaxed in the shallows, rock launching the creatures skyward when she felt them scuttling across the sea bed. My task was slightly more taxing, rushing about in the tides, catching the crawlers in the crown before they splashed back into the waves. 

She seemed impressed. Or entertained. Either way. Water tribe for the win.

"I think crab launching is officially my favorite kind of fishing,' I said, eyeing the haul proudly. Morale boost, here we come. "Aang would _so_ not approve."

Toph frowned and blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Yeah, well. Aang's not doing much of anything."

I hadn't asked. But I'd assumed. If there had been any change, good or bad, she would have mentioned it straight away. "Katara?"

"About the same."

No surprise there, either. She'd gone on autopilot again. Just like before. I was afraid this would happen, afraid of seeing her this way. Her empty eyes, they filled some of my worst memories. Like the day when she'd kept sweeping the kitchen. Even though it was clean. Swept until her hands were raw. I'd had to hide the broom.

I'd felt useless then. I felt useless now. It was half the reason I took off on bear duty this morning. To do something. Anything. Some action I could control.

I looked back at the fire down the beach, at the crabs in the heavy crate. "Maybe I'll go grab a couple guys to help..."

"Pfft, please." Toph rolled her eyes, waved her hand, and started levitating the hulking thing down the shore.

"Oh, right." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Greatest earthbender in the world and all."

"Don't you forget it."

"But you _so_ love reminding me."

"I do, don't I?"

We were just starting to attract some of the soldiers' attention when I heard shouting off to the right. Two very familiar voices, in the ship moored just offshore. 

"That been happening much while I was gone?"

"Oh, just a _lot_."

"Fantastic," I muttered.

"I feel kinda bad for your dad. He seems pretty stressed out."

Weren't we all.

"And he's not wrong. She does need to sleep." Toph bit her lip. "She might listen to _you_."

"When does Katara ever listen to me?"

"She does. More than you think."

"Maybe." I hesitated, looking back at the ship.

"You go. I'll take care of these." She nodded toward the crate.

"Yeah. Okay."

* * *

Dad was just walking out of the cabin when I climbed onboard.

"You doing alright?" I asked.

"Ah. Well," he tried to smile, but ended up just looking tired. "Soldiers I can handle. But teenage girls..."

"Oh, I know," I clapped him on the back. "These last few months..." I whistled. "I've seen some things."

"I'll bet you have!" He laughed. It was good to see him laugh. To see him smile. But his face went serious again all too soon.

"She's not the girl I left behind."

"No," I agreed. "She's not."

Dad looked down, at a loss.

"Why don't you let me take a swing at it?" I nodded to the door.

"By all means, swing away." Dad smiled halfheartedly again, heading back toward the gangplank.

I couldn't stand seeing him so defeated. "There should be some crab cooking back on the beach," I called after him. "A whole bunch."

He looked back at me, his face lifting, the smile reaching his eyes again this time.

Food. Amazing, the transformative power of something so simple.

"How'd you manage that?"

"Oh," I shrugged. "It helps being friends with a seismic earthbender."

He laughed. "She's an impressive one, that girl."

That she was. I nodded, "See you in a bit, then."

"Yeah. Alright," He tipped his head in return, and headed back on shore.

I turned to the door, took a deep breath, and went in.

"I SAID I'm not going to —" My sister stopped when she saw me. "Oh. Hey, Sokka." Her voice was hollow.

It was dark inside the cabin. One of the lamps had long since guttered out, but she didn't seem to have noticed. I refilled it with oil and lit it again.

She squinted in the additional light, but said nothing.

I sat down next to her.

Aang lay on a pallet of furs, still pale, his breaths shallow, but otherwise peaceful. At least he was clean.

Katara's dress was smudged with dust and ash and flecks of dried blood, her hair greasy and unkempt in the orange lamplight. Her eyelids red-rimmed and heavy, with dark circles underneath.

"You need a bath."

"So do you," she said, stonily.

True enough. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I had some fish."

" _When_?"

She shrugged. "Sometime today."

"And drank?"

She held up her flask and shook it, as if that proved some kind of point.

"And _slept_?"

She looked back at Aang, her lips tightening in a hard line.

"You need to sleep."

"I have to —"

" _Aang_ needs you to sleep."

That had broken through. Her words cut short, she looked up at me. Angry. Trapped. "Dad already tried to make me leave him, but I'm not-"

"I'm not asking you to _leave_. I'm asking you to sleep."

She stopped again, and looked at me warily. "It's just... I need to be here. In case —"

"I know."

"— and I could never fall asleep anyway if I were somewhere else. Where I couldn't —"

"I know."

"— I'd be too worried."

I took her hands. They were chapped and cold. And slightly trembling. "I _know_."

She still looked hesitant.

" _Well_?"

"But what if _you_ fall asleep?"

"I think there's actually much less chance that —"

"I would never!"

"You're dead on your feet!"

"But you don't —" She stopped mid sentence and looked down at Aang. "I mean— it's just that _—_ "

"You're not the only one who cares about him, Katara!" I said, louder than I'd meant. Stronger than I'd meant. She looked at me, startled. I growled and ran a hand down my face. "Look, I know you two are close. And I know how protective you can be, but you don't need to protect him from _me_. We're on the same team. And don't you think it hurts me, too? To see him like this? He was my first real friend outside of you. He's like... a brother to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes then and started spilling, making tracks down her dirt-smeared cheeks.

_Nice work, idiot._ I groaned. "Dang it, Katara. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to _—_ "

But she threw her arms around me. "I felt so _alone_ ," she sobbed.

"Never." I said, returning the embrace.

Once she'd taken a minute to cry it out, she released me bashfully and swiped at her eyes with her fists. Which only further served to smudge the dirt on her cheeks. She grimaced when she noticed the grime come off on her hand.

"Wow," she conceded, finally taking a good look at herself. "I do need a bath." 

"Told ya." I smirked.

She looked like she wanted to punch me, but didn't have the energy. She drew her knees up and hugged them instead. "I'm sorry, Sokka."

"You don't need to be —"

"Yes. I do. I thought I was doing what was best for Aang, but I guess..."

"... you were just making everyone else miserable?"

"Well, I wasn't going to put it _that_ way." Her shoulders slumped. "Although I suppose it's true enough. Sometimes... it's just easier, you know? I keep feeling like if I don't keep a lid on myself, the panic is going to take control. It's easier if I can just... turn Katara off for a while. Be someone else."

"You can't work through the panic if you ignore it. It only grows bigger. If you need help — if you need to _talk —_ then talk. Ask for help. Because we don't need someone else. We need you, panic and all."

"Well. I guess I can try." She sighed. "But I can't promise I'm going to be chipper."

"You don't need to be chipper. You don't even need to be _pleasant_. Just be yourself. If that's sad, then be sad. But be _you_."

"Thank you. Really. For understanding." She smiled bitterly. "I wish _Dad_ did."

"Dad's just worried about you."

"Dad doesn't like Aang."

That was unexpected. "Dad doesn't _know_ Aang."

"Maybe not, but he doesn't like him either. He keeps trying to separate us."

"He just wants you to feel better. To get some sleep and some fresh air."

"Away from _Aang_."

"Away from this stuffy cabin. Away from the worry."

"As if _not_ being in this cabin will magically make me worry less."

"It might."

She glared.

"It might! Even just five minutes, here and there. Watch the sunrise. Take a swim. Clear your head. Relax. You'll be much better able to take care of him if you take care of yourself."

"I know. But I still don't think that's it _._ With Dad, I mean. The way he looked at me _..._ " Her eyes brimmed with tears again, "...it's like he was disappointed."

"I doubt that."

"You didn't see it." Her voice took on a sharper edge. "It's like he thinks it's inappropriate. That I care so much about him."

"Katara —"

"And that makes me _feel_ inappropriate. Guilty. Wrong. And I hate it. Because... because how dare he! You know?" Her eyes blazed. "Because I haven't done anything wrong! But... it's Dad! So it matters! And now it has me so twisted up inside that I feel like I have to justify everything. Justify myself.

"Yes, I have strong feelings for Aang," she went on. "How could I not? He's my best friend. We _had_ to grow close, to lean on each other. All of us. We needed each other. So why is that _wrong_? And, in the end, I think maybe he's just mad because I'm not the little girl he remembers. Because I've grown up. But he can't blame for that! I've had to, haven't I? _He wasn't there!_ "

Her words reverberated through the cabin, hurting. Cutting. They cut _me_. I wanted to defend him. To tell Katara she had it wrong. But then I remembered the look Dad had given me when I first saw him again. How proud he had seemed. It meant everything to me. If he had looked disappointed... Just the thought breaks me.

She might have got it wrong. She _probably_ got it wrong. But she didn't need a discourse from me. She needed Dad.

She hugged her legs tighter, her gaze becoming distant again. _Oh, no you don't._

"It's gonna be okay." I promised, looking at her. Forcing her to meet my eyes. "We're going to get through this. _All_ of this. All of _us_. You, me, Aang, _Dad_..."

"Don't forget Toph," she grumbled.

"Couldn't if I tried. But I'm serious. Things feel bleak right now and it's got us all on edge. But Aang'll wake up soon —"

Katara rolled her eyes.

"I saw that. But yes, he will. And then Dad'll get to know him. And even if he _doesn't_ like him now, he'll like him then. Because — come on — it's Aang. Who doesn't like Aang? Aside from stupid Fire Nation people- they don't count. Everyone likes Aang. You can't help it. I didn't want to like him at first and look at me now. I just admitted I think of him as a brother."

The corner of her mouth tugged up.

"So have some _hope_ , sister." I smiled. "It's just been a hard day. A really hard one. And on top of it all, I think I tweaked my back. I tried to lift Bosco up a tree this morning."

"You _WHAT_ ‽" The smile was there now, fully realized. _That a girl._

We talked about King Kuei. We talked about his bear. And the bear's manicure. We talked about catching crab and, as if on cue, Toph came in with a steaming crown full.

We ate and we laughed. And with Toph and I's assurances that we would watch Aang through the night, Katara was finally able to let herself sleep.

Toph took the first watch. I needed to talk to Dad. There were plans to be made and teenage girls to discuss. The Fire Nation was stronger than ever. We were just one longshot band of soldiers and kids, and down an Avatar besides. But I felt a bit better now, after talking about crabs and kings. Better about our outlook and about how I'd spent my day. Sure, I'd been crushed and chased and washed downriver. But it hadn't been a total loss.

If the stories could remind my sister how to smile.


	5. Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakoda just wants his kids to be happy, but the world isn't always kind. 
> 
> Aang is still unconscious. Katara is trying to cope. Sokka just wants to make everything better, but to do that, he's got to have a hard conversation with his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.

> I love you more than anything. You and your brother are my entire world. I thought about you every day I was gone. And every night, when I went to sleep, I would lie awake missing you so much it would ache.
> 
> **- _Hakoda, The Awakening_ **

**Hakoda**

It was fully dark when a lone figure finally left the ship, but Hakoda was still awake.

At first, he sat with his men around the larger communal fire. The scent of steaming crab on the breeze had lifted both hearts and voices. After two years at war, he knew better than to take times like this for granted, and he nodded gratefully toward the young earthbender when he noticed her getting up to take some food to his children. This night was, in large part, thanks to her.

He would have liked to have gone as well. But for the moment, his place was here. So he stayed, and for the next couple of hours, he watched while his tribesmen laughed and jostled good-naturedly. Watched and appreciated and smiled. Spoke when spoken to. But he didn't participate. Not really.

Bato was at the center of it all, standing behind the heavy iron pot with his apron and his tongs and his smile. They had missed him sorely when he was recuperating at the abbey. The man had an uncanny knack for taking foreign ingredients and making them taste like home. His mock recipe for stewed sea prunes could bring a man to tears.

Of course, it wasn't really the food that he had missed. It'd been hard without his right hand man, without his friend. Bato had seen him through the darkest days of his life. His father's death. Kya's. The day he left his kids behind. As a leader, it was his duty to put on a good face, even — and perhaps especially — during difficult times. People looked to him for hope. But he, he looked to his friend. Bato always saw him, mask or no. Even now. He could see it in the way the man's eyes darted over to him every few minutes, acknowledging him without words. Asking if everything was alright.

But it was alright, wasn't it? Better than alright, in many ways. They were alive. They were fed. And he was with his kids again. Something he'd dreamed of — quite literally — for years now. But it wasn't the way he had imagined it, and that was a loss in its own right.

_Why do we do that to ourselves?_

The imagining. The dreaming. It helped in the moment, or at least it felt like it did. Maybe it only made the wishing worse. More fervent. And it certainly set up the future — even a good one — for failure. Because how could anything compare to a dream? It only made it harder.

Bato was looking at him again and he realized he'd been frowning. He'd been doing that too much lately. So he rearranged his face and tried to look outwards rather than inwards.

His men were happy. The Avatar was hurt, but he was here, and it had done a lot to bolster their spirits. For years, it seemed that any headway they'd made was rather small and temporal in the grand scheme of things. But now it felt like they had a clear-cut duty before them. With the Avatar, it felt like things mattered. With the Avatar, it felt like they had purpose. And that was a valuable thing. A soldier with purpose fought like ten men. A man with purpose could find peace within.

A man without —

You okay?" The man to his right — Jonnick — was looking at him funny.

He'd been doing it again. "Oh! Yes," Hakoda assured him, quirking his mouth back up into something more amicable. "I guess I drifted off a bit there. I think I'm just tired, maybe ate a little too much —"

"I think we all did," Bato laughed, intervening just in time to address the crowd. "Alright, you lot! Let's get this cleaned up. I haven't got more than two hands!"

Most everyone retired to their tents after that, or settled down around smaller, more familiar fires, and the beach was still and quiet before Hakoda allowed himself to relax into his thoughts once again.

He pursed his lips, considering. Sokka still hadn't returned, but neither had the Earth Nation girl. That boded well, didn't it? And he hadn't heard any shouting. That in itself was better than he had managed.

But then he saw a lone figure finally exit the ship at last. Sokka. His son's shoulders seemed lighter than when he'd gone in, his stride purposeful. But when the light from the fire down the shore finally lit the boy's face, Hakoda knew.

Sokka forced a smile as he approached, his fingers absently playing with the hem of his tunic. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Sokka," Hakoda echoed and looked at him sympathetically. "We... need to talk?"

His son let out his breath in a rush and nodded. "Yeah. We need to talk."

/ / /

Hakoda lit the lamps in the council tent while his son got comfortable. It was farther from the others, quieter, more private. No one would idly bother them here.

Once done, he sat on one of the rugs opposite. "Alright, now. Let me have it," he smiled, trying to put the younger man at ease, "I suppose she didn't listen to you either."

"Well," Sokka said, grabbing another of the furs and pulling it into his lap, "actually, she's — what I mean is — she actually did listen. She's asleep right now, if you can believe it. She agreed to let Toph and I help watch Aang. We're going to take it in shifts at night so she can get some rest."

 _Oh_.

"Yeah." The younger man rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well," Hakoda said, carefully. "That's great news, Sokka. I'm — I'm impressed. You certainly knew how to handle — I mean — you knew how to talk to her better than I did." He felt his face redden. "I feel... a bit out of my depth, if I'm honest. Kya was always so much better with — well — it just seems like everything I say is wrong."

Sokka looked at him sympathetically. "It's okay, Dad. Girls are... hard. And you've been away. And Katara has..." he furrowed his brow, "...issues. Well, not issues, exactly. Not that she _doesn't_ have issues. But — you know what I mean — there are certain... subjects... that's she's touchy — sensitive, I mean — they're hard for her to talk about." He took a deep breath. "Sorry, I have no idea if that made any sense."

"I understood fine," Hakoda smiled. "But you're right. I don't know what she's thinking, what she's feeling. I know I'm saying — or doing — something wrong. I'm just not sure what it is."

"Actually, I think you might." Sokka averted his eyes, looking at the ground, where the lamplight cast flickering shadows between them. "Is there anything you feel — I mean — is there anything you're disappointed in her about?"

Hakoda blinked. "Disappointed? In Katara?" _Where was this coming from?_ "I'm disappointed in a lot of things. But not in her. I'm _afraid_ for her, but... disappointed? After everything she's done? How could I be?"

Sokka smiled sadly. "That's what I figured. That's what I _said_. But she's... well..." He stopped, looking like he'd said too much.

" _Katara_ thinks I'm disappointed?"

Sokka bit his lip. "Among other things."

Hakoda shook his head. He really had to get control of his face. What was she seeing when he looked at her? As he felt sad for her — angry for her — angry at himself for not knowing how to make her understand… was that all that showed though? Anger? 

He closed his eyes. "I shouted."

"Dad — "

"Don't try to make me feel better. I was just — she was like... ice. Like there was an ice wall between us and I didn't know how to break it, how to get through to her." He sighed. "But _you_ did."

Sokka rubbed his fingers through the fur in his lap without looking up. "You remember what happened when Mom died?"

"Of course I —"

"— to Katara, I mean," Sokka cut in. "I'm not trying to be cold here, but — you were a little... gone... for a while. I don't know if you noticed."

Hakoda had no words. What _had_ happened? He had to think about it. Some moments from that time were so, so clear. He could close his eyes and see them as if they were happening in front of him, all over again. But others were hazy, or not there at all. _Katara_. When he thought about her — when he saw her in his memories — it was always the Katara from before, the one who was constantly running circles around him when he walked in the house, who was always smiling.

"It changed her."

Sokka nodded. "She got... hard. Icy, like you said. Impenetrable. It's how she survived. It's how she... did... what she did."

"What did she do?"

Sokka shrugged. "Everything. Gran Gran helped, of course, but..." He frowned. "I kind of... stopped trying. At everything for a while. Just tried to distract myself with stupid stuff, you know. Getting into trouble. And you were — well — it felt like you were in your own world as well, like you sort of of threw yourself into your role. Tried to help anyone and everyone. Anything so long as you could stay busy, so you be anywhere but home."

"Sokka —"

"— no, Dad, it's okay. Or at least… I understand. Not that it wasn't hard. I just mean... I'm not bringing it up to... I'm not trying to say anything against... it's just..." He let out a breath. "I'm just trying to set the stage for you. To help you understand. We _all_ distracted ourselves in our own way. But _because_ of the way you and I did it, Katara was left with... everything else. And the way _she_ did it — the way she was _able_ to do it — was by creating that barrier. Shielding herself from everything and everyone, even herself. Maybe especially herself. She didn't even really grieve. Not for a long time, anyway. And by the time she did, or tried to, it was so walled up inside her, it's like she just... couldn't. So it's still there. And most of the time she's okay. Or at least she acts okay. But once in a while something will trigger it and she'll just break down again, and —"

"Sokka, I'm so —"

"— I know you are. And none of this matters — I mean, it does, but it's not what I'm trying to get at — I'm just trying to say that's how she copes. She did it with Mom. She did again when you left. And now..."

 _And now?_ "But... the Avatar's still alive."

"And you’d better hope he stays that way," Sokka said seriously, "or she’s going to get even harder."

Hakoda paled. Cleared his throat. "You said... you said there were other things?"

Sokka sighed. "What _are_ you disappointed in, Dad?"

Hakoda shook his head. "Where do I start? What happened to your mother. Just... what this world is. That I can't make it safe for you. I tried, and you got sucked in anyway." He felt tears well up his eyes. "You just... you both deserved so much more."

Sokka smiled sympathetically, but didn't look ready to cut in. He was waiting for something else. _Damn_. The boy was intelligent. That was it, wasn't it? The thing he didn't want to say. Not out loud, anyway.

"I'm disappointed in the Avatar."

Sokka nodded. "She can see it."

"Well, alright. Okay. Noted. But what does that have to do with —"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "You're not stupid."

Hakoda frowned. "Okay. But—" He stopped. Why keep lying to himself? His son already knew the question. No use not asking it. He sighed. "What is he to her, Sokka?"

Not just friends. That was the implication. Of course it was. He'd seen his daughter, the way she looked at _him_. He saw it in her eyes, in the shake of her hands.

"He's..." Sokka seemed to be struggling with the right word, then shrugged. "He's _more_." He looked like he was afraid it wasn't clear enough, but Hakoda understood.

Not just friends, then, but not something easily definable. Just... more. And she'd seen his disappointment in the boy. Translated it into disappointment in her, in her feelings for him. "Well," he finally said. "That makes things..."

"Yeah..."

They sat in silence for a moment that felt much longer.

"And does he,” Hakoda finally said, “I mean — does he reciprocate?"

"What... Aang? Oh, yeah. _Very_ much so. Like, she might still be processing her feelings, but he’s been head-over-heels for—" Sokka stopped, seemingly noticing his father's expression. "Now, don't get the wrong idea." He went on, putting his hands up. "Sure, Aang’s in love with her. No question. But he’d never do anything... untoward. He’s not like that. Plus, I think he’s still a little terrified of her."

"Good," Hakoda nodded. "Fear is good. Still, he's only — what? Twelve? I know at that age it can _feel_ serious, but..."

"But?"

"But… you know what guys are like."

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "Because that's what _you_ were like?"

Hakoda crossed his arms. "I'll have you know _I_ fell in love with your mother when I was eight."

"Oh," his son looked surprised. "I thought Bato had said you had a reputation for — "

"You're trusting _Bato_?"

"Sorry! Really. I just — "

"I'm only teasing," Hakoda laughed. "I'm sure whatever Bato told you was right. Though I really did believe I was in love with her when I was eight. For a while. But then, between ages eight and eighteen... I may have 'fallen in love' a good many other times as well."

Sokka laughed. "I knew it."

"Sure. Laugh it up. It's funny now. _Not_ so much back when I had to convince your mother I'd changed and really _was_ serious about her." He narrowed his eyes at his son, still smirking at him. "Oh, come on now. Don't tell me _you_ haven't started building a reputation of your own. What was it you said last time you were here? Something about a girl you met on the road?"

"Oh." Sokka quieted down a bit at that, ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Sort of. I guess."

"You guess?"

His son smiled. A little. Then frowned again. "It's... complicated."

"It always is."

"Yeah, well. I don't even know where she is right now."

Hakoda's smile softened, faded, as he watched unsaid thoughts contort the boy's face. "Sokka..."

"It's... it's okay. I'm sure she's fine. She's way tougher than me. I'm sure we'll find each other again. Someday." He tried to smile. "It's not as if I have time for that sort of thing anyway, there being a war going on and all."

"And here I was teasing you about — "

"— it's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

"Well, I _am_ worried about it. I got the chance to run after every girl in the village. To be young and stupid — "

"— Oh, don't worry, I'm still plenty stupid. Just ask Katara."

"Maybe," Hakoda smiled, despite himself. "A little bit, anyway. But less than you let on. You're a man, Sokka, and you've been a man for a while now. I could see it in you the day I left. You had to grow up far too soon, you and your sister both."

"She more than me," Sokka said quietly, pushing the fur aside. "I thought back then that I was taking care of her, but she was really the one taking care of me. She still is. She's been taking care of all of us."

"You take care of each other, just like I knew you would. I see the way you look out for her."

Sokka shrugged. "I try."

"You do. And you make a difference. Don't forget that. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't be resting right now."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Now if only that airbender would wake up."

Sokka looked at his father curiously and Hakoda knew that he'd heard it, the tone that he hadn't been careful enough to keep out of his voice.

"You know," the younger man said, leaning his arms onto his knees, "when I first met Aang, I thought he was an annoying little twerp, with his air tricks and his flashy tattoos. He was all careless nonchalance and reckless charm. I saw the way he got Katara's hopes up about learning waterbending and it scared me. Then to make matters worse, he went and developed a massive crush on her. So yeah, I get it. Because Katara's Katara, you know? Avatar or not, a goofy twelve year old is not worthy of her."

Hakoda nodded.

"But then I got to know him. When the fire nation came to our village, he didn't have to come back to help us, and he certainly didn't have to surrender just so none of us would get hurt. But he did. So I decided to give him a chance. And... I get it. If all I knew about Aang were the stories — the adventures, the battles — exciting though they are, it wouldn't be enough. Even seeing some of the things he's done first hand — putting himself between a village and a volcano, taking on the entire Fire Nation fleet at the North Pole — and don't get me wrong, those things were _dang_ impressive..." He paused, scratching his head. "Wait? Where was I? I started thinking about the North Pole."

Hakoda smiled. "You said it wasn't enough."

"Oh, right. Well. It wasn't. Or it wouldn't be, anyway, if that's all I knew about him. But... it isn't. Because as terrifying and powerful as Aang can be even in normal everyday sorts of deadly confrontations— "

Hakoda laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"What?"

"Don't you see? That's just it. Look, I'm sure he is as powerful as you say and... that he's a nice guy or something, but... he's the reason you can casually say something like _normal-every day-fatal-confrontations_ or whatever it was." 

He sighed. "When I first found out you were traveling with the Avatar, I was scared, sure. But I believed you were going to be okay. I don't know why. Maybe it was your Gran's stories. It just... it felt a little like destiny. Plus, you were with the _Avatar_ . I knew he was just a boy, but... I _had_ heard the stories. And they helped. Knowing how powerful he was made me feel like you were safe. Protected..."

"And then he fell," Sokka said quietly.

Hakoda nodded. "And then he fell. And so did the charade." He raked a hand through his hair, trying to control his face, trying to keep his hands from forming fists.

"You were never safe. I should have known it. I did know it, but wouldn't let myself admit it. I wanted you to be safe. I _needed_ you to be. It was the only way I could keep going, could keep from abandoning my men to come find you."

He sighed. "I know the kid's the Avatar. I know that it's my duty to support him. And I know that he's just, well, a kid, and this isn't his fault — not fully, not really — but... he's still the reason you're here, the reason Katara is breaking. The reason neither of you are back home. Safe."

Sokka was quiet for a minute before he spoke. "Safe is a funny word," he said. "There's what it means, and what it is." He looked up with a small half-smile that nearly broke his father's heart. "But no one's ever safe. Not really. It's the story we tell ourselves, to our children. But it isn't a reality. It's a... feeling. A feeling we want, a feeling we want to give to others." He looked down. "By either definition, home hadn’t been safe for years. Home hadn’t been... _home._ "

There was nothing Hakoda could say. Not without a minute. Not to that. The words that wanted to come felt hollow. Trite. 

"You have no idea how much I want to give you back what you've lost,” he finally said. “ Our family. Our home. Safety. Even the illusion of safety," He couldn’t help blinking back tears. "But you’re not a child anymore. All I can give you is honesty. And honestly, I'm scared for you. And yes, I'm angry at the world for what it's thrown at you. But as strong as those feelings are, they're nothing — _nothing —_ to how proud I am of you. You are so brave and so smart. So much more than I am."

Sokka blushed. "I don't know about that."

"I do," Hakoda said. "Must've gotten it from your mother."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Thank _you_. For all you've done. Don't think I can't see the way you hold that group of yours together."

"I try," Sokka said, blinking a little too fast, his voice a little too tight.

"I know you do. The Avatar is lucky to have you."

"Aang."

“Yes."

"No,” Sokka said, wiping his eyes and sitting up straighter. "His name is Aang."

"I —"

"You haven't said it once. Not tonight, not this whole time."

He hadn't? No. He hadn’t. "Aang," he said, quietly. Humbled. Not a title, not a noun. A name.

Sokka nodded approvingly. "Look, I'm not trying to convince you to like Aang. I can't. Like I said, stories aren't enough. Just... give him a chance when he wakes up, okay? He may be twelve, but... he's also a hundred and twelve. Okay, that sounds weirder out loud than it did in my head, but — I just mean that — he's _not_ just a kid. He's... more, somehow.

"And yeah," he went on, "sometimes, he's still a little goofy. But then, so am I. And he makes her laugh. More than I do. _Easier_ than I do. And that's not something I take for granted. She doesn't do it enough, not by herself."

Hakoda nodded. "She's like her mother. Intense."

"You're right. That's why she is the way she is right now. But there've been times when, if she wasn't... I don't know where we'd be. So, yeah. She's intense, but... " Sokka tugged on his hair. "You mentioned destiny. Well, Katara goes in for all that. I — well — I don't. In fact, I usually make fun of her for it. And I'm _not_ apologizing for that, but... sometimes... some _things_ ... and don't you _ever_ tell her I said this, but... sometimes I can't help but wonder. That she found him. That she is who she is and it's _exactly_ what was needed. I don't know. But Aang gives her hope. And she gives me hope." He shrugged. "The truth is, I don't know what he is to Katara. Not exactly. Only that he's more. But not just for her. For me, too. More than a friend. More like a brother. So... no matter what he and Katara are, or become, or _don’t_ become... he’s part of our family. And that's not going to change."

It was a statement. Not a question, not even a plea. Hakoda could hear it in his tone, see it in his eyes and the set of his shoulders. And he loved him all the more for it.

"Well, then," he said, clasping his son in the shoulder. "If this boy — Aang — if _Aang_ , I mean — has managed to so thoroughly earn both of my children's devotion, then he must be something. I may not trust just anyone's stories, but I know I can take your word for it. I hope he wakes up soon. I hope... I can get to know him."

"I hope so, too," Sokka said, and smiled, and it was all Hakoda wanted just then, a world that made room for his children to smile.

/ / /

She was cleaner when he saw her the next morning. The room was, too, the curtains pulled aside and the windows flung wide to let in both light and a healthy breeze.

 _Smile_ , Hakoda reminded himself, as he stepped inside. _Look pleasant, at least. Let her see how proud you are_.

“Good morning,” he said, brightly. He tried to sound bright, anyway. _Had_ it sounded bright?

She looked up at him, just for a moment, and smiled back. Sort of. An almost-smile. An I’m-trying-to-smile smile. 

“How’s he doing — _Aang_ —” he cleared his throat. “How’s Aang doing?”

She looked back up at him. Curious. Cautious. One eyebrow raised in question. _What are you playing at?_

“He’s fine,” is what she said. “Fine as he’s been anyway.” Her eyes flicked back to the boy. To Aang. “At least he’s not any worse.”

 _Say something_ , Hakoda thought. _Explain._ “Do you… mind if I…?” He gestured inside.

“Not at all,” she said. ‘ _I guess not’_ is what it sounded like, her voice tighter than it should be, but lighter than it had been the day before. 

He stepped in and she scooted over to make room for him on the floor in front of the boy. In front of Aang.

“Aang looks better,” he said carefully.

“His color does seem to be coming back, a bit,” she said, touching his cheek, then drawing it back quickly. She clasped her hands in her lap. “Of course, it might just be the light. I hadn’t been very good at… I’d kept it a bit too dark, I think.”

“Your color is looking better, too,” he said.

Her lips tightened.

 _Too close_ , Hakoda thought, shifting gears. Too close to the argument they’d had about her not sleeping. Too much like gloating. _Say what you came to say_.

“I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. Just… look at you. I mean, when Bato told me that you two were with the Avatar, it was… I couldn’t believe it. You and Sokka, helping the A— Aang.” He cleared his throat again. “I couldn’t _be_ prouder. Especially now that I see him, and I see all you’ve done for him. And... I’m sure it’s been hard for him, too, being just a kid.”

“He’s more than just a kid, Dad.”

“Yes. Well. I know. I just meant that —”

“— It’s what they all do when they meet him.” She shook her head. “People are either pontificating or patronizing. They expect too much of him or too little. He’s constantly having to prove himself. And at the same time, try get people realize he’s a _person_. Who can mess up… or bleed. Or die.” The last word was quieter than the others. She took a breath and pulled her knees up, holding them to her like armor. “It’s like no one can see beyond his height or his title. That he’s both, and yet more. More than what he seems.”

“He's twelve, but he's also a hundred and twelve.”

“What?”

“Just something Sokka said.”

“The thing is,” she said, resting her chin on her knees, “I don't even know if he is twelve anymore. He was when we met him, but that was over half a year ago. He might've had a birthday by now. But I don't know. I never asked. He never said.” She looked over at him, her eyes brimming but unashamed. Daring him to remark or reprimand. Hakoda did neither.

She looked back at Aang. “How can I... know the way he doesn't like his food to touch on his plate? He acts like it's no big deal, but he always fixes it when he thinks no one's looking. Or the way his toes sometimes twitch when he meditates, when he manages to keep the rest of himself so still? I know the look he gets in his eyes when he's thinking about his people, and by the way he’s sitting whether he needs someone to be there or wants to be left alone,” her voice caught, but she swallowed her tears and sat up straighter. “How can I know all of _that_ , but not know when his birthday is?”

“You know the things that matter.”

“Do I? What if there’s something I missed? Something he _needed_ ? What if there’s something I never did? Or said? And he _dies_ and —”

Hakoda had tried to be patient, to give her space to talk — to _be_ — but he couldn’t let her continue on alone anymore. He pulled her in against him and she buried her head in his chest. 

“I just wish there was more I could do,” she sobbed.

“You’re doing _amazing_. And I’m sure he knows it.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it’s what you do. It’s who you are, Katara. So wherever he is right now, I’m sure he’s fighting to get back.”

“You think?”

“It’s what I’d do, if I knew you were fighting for me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at her tears, “for all the… well…” She gestured at her puffy eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. It wasn’t at you. It was just… it’s hard to see the ones you love in pain. It’s even harder when you don’t know how to fix it. I’ve just felt… helpless.”

“Believe me,” she laughed, motioning toward Aang. “I know what that’s like.”

“Well, then,” Hakoda smiled. “I guess we're in the same boat.”

It took a few seconds before she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Dad?”

Once upon a time a joke that bad would have had his daughter rolling with laughter. No more. But there was a twinkle there, in her eyes, and the hint of a suppressed smile around her lips.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted, the tension, the careful treading. The wall. It wasn’t what he’d dreamed. But he could see cracks there now, and hope shining between, revealing a girl who wasn't so different from the one he remembered. She was harder, but she wasn't gone. 

And that was more than enough.


	6. Hey, Aang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes while Aang is unconscious, but Katara makes sure she and her friends keep the airbender company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.
> 
> References events from "The Bridge" comic from The Lost Adventures anthology. (Explains how they switched ships to enter the Fire Nation in disguise.)
> 
> Warning: Sokka makes up an inappropriate limerick. It felt on brand.

**Sokka**

Hey, Aang, it's Sokka. 

Well, I'm not gonna lie. This feels weird. But Katara thinks that, even though you're unconscious, maybe you can hear us. Or at least be aware of us. Or something like that, I don't know. But apparently she learned up at the North Pole that isolation is bad for recovery. Emotional health tying into physical health somehow… blah, blah, blah. So she wants us to talk to you. And Katara gets what Katara wants, so…. here I am. You're welcome.

And… I have no idea what to say. She says it doesn't matter. I could sing or recite limericks for all she cares. Although she didn't seem to like my idea reading you dirty novels. Not that I have any. But we're in a war camp, there's bound to be something. I'm gonna keep my eyes out. Plus, Toph thought it was funny.

She — Toph, I mean — thinks this whole thing is a load of nonsense, too, or at least that's what she says, but I've seen her whisper to you when she thinks no one's looking.

And I guess it doesn't hurt to try, just in case you can hear. Maybe it'll motivate you to — I don't know — heal faster? Not that you really have any control over that. Although you are the Avatar. If anyone could, it'd be you. So... if you can hear me… maybe try? If you can?

Anyway, in good news, we actually have a plan. It's a little risky, but... it's something. And if I'm honest — well — let's just say we could use a win right now.

**Toph**

Hey, Aang. I've been thinking about your nickname. It doesn't feel right to use it now. You know, since you're never _on_ your toes these days. To be honest, Snoozles would be a much better fit if it wasn't already taken. Plus, Sokka has been unusually _un-snoozle-ish_? Yeah, that word didn't really work out. Let's just forget it happened. But, he's running himself ragged. I mean, not as bad as Katara was those first few days. 'Cause... just gonna say it. That was bad. But he's not good. He stays up half the night to sit with you and then stays busy pretty much all day. Sure, I stay up the other half of the night, but at least I have the common sense to sleep in or take a nap in the afternoon. 

I think he feels like it's his responsibility to keep everything together. Maybe it'll be better after we switch ships. I hope so. He's so worried about everyone else. It makes me worried about him. 

But I guess maybe we're all just a little stressed. I know I will feel a lot better once we get the plan in motion. I think we're wrecking the ships tonight. Did you know we're wrecking the ships? Yeah… crazy right? But we don't have a lot of choice. There's a fire navy scouting ship nearby and it's only a matter of time 'til they find us… hence the stress. 

But I'm all for it. Plus, if we can get a metal ship… let's just say that will make my life a heck of a lot easier. Navigating this one is… problematic. I think Katara and Sokka forget sometimes that wood isn't earth. Or maybe they just haven't thought about it. They seem to forget I'm blind half the time. But I'm not ready to remind them just yet. Sokka doesn't need another thing on his plate and Katara — well — I think half the reason she was willing to let me take a shift watching you is because she thinks I can feel your heartbeat. Who better to sit with you, right? And if we were on the ground, then sure. No problem. But here? I can a teeny bit now, but only because I've spent hours practicing. See, I'm trying to focus on what I _can_ see. There's bits of metal all over the ship of course — nails, some braces, fixtures — stuff like that. And I can use them like landmarks a bit, you know? But it's far from perfect, so I've been trying to also hone in on the small stuff, the dirt that gets tracked in across the floor or smudged on the wall. But it's such a thin layer, it's hard to get a good picture. It's kind of shifty, like sand. Though I'll have you know I've been practicing with that as well and my sand sight has gotten ten times better. Camping on a beach will do that to you, I guess. But in here? Everything's super hazy. 

Which is why I'm holding your hand. If you hadn't noticed. Katara thinks it's sweet. But I'm telling you now, it's just so I can be a good Avatar-sitter and _actually_ feel your heartbeat. So don't get any funny ideas, got it?

Not that you would. Not that I want you to. 

Okay, okay. I know _that_ made it sound like I actually _do_ want you to, but that's not what I meant, okay? It's just that… maybe I do want to be looked at like that. Just not by you. I mean, no offense. I think you're great. I just don't see you _that_ way, you know? Ugh. What am I talking about? Sorry I'm being so crazy. It's just that Sokka thinks the Duke has a crush on me and it's weirding me out. 

Oh yeah, Pipsqueak and the Duke are both here. I caught them a few days ago, trying to make off with some supplies. Amateurs. No one sneaks past the feet. At least, not on land, anyway.

But I think they're glad they got caught. After being on their own, they seem pretty happy being part of a group again. And it actually has been kind of nice just chilling on the beach these past few days. Way better than Ba Sing Se. You'd like it. And Sokka and Katara's dad is here. I think you'd like him, too.

**Katara**

Hey, Aang. Just wanted to let you know we're going to have to move you. So if it feels like you're being carried, well, that's because you are. Or will be, I mean. Not too far. Just onto a small boat and then it'll be a quick ride to the shore. I think you'll like it better there anyway, off the ship. There's a nice breeze, so it'll be much less stuffy. Yeah. I think it will be better. Definitely. You weren't made for walls, anyway. You need open spaces. The sky. Maybe it will help. Anyway, here they come. Just hang tight.

**Sokka**

Well, we sunk the ships. No turning back now. Everyone's counting on this to work. No pressure, right?

Yeah. It's made me think about you a bit, actually. It's made me appreciate the pressure you're under. Because you think everyone's counting on you to save the world. And… you're not wrong.

But we're here for you, okay? You're not alone.

I'm feeling... kind of alone myself. Which is weird. I know I shouldn't. Toph and Katara are here. And Dad's here. _Dad_ . I should be ecstatic. And in some ways I am. But... he seems like of lost right now. He's worried about Katara, and about his fleet, of course. But the look in his eyes when I talk to him? It's… heartbreaking. He just hurts so much for us. Like he can take on the pain to make ours go away. But I just want to take _his_ troubles away, you know? I don't want to add any of my own.

Which is probably why I'm talking to you.

I just... I wish I could fix it. And I wish… well...

I miss Suki.

And I miss Yue.

I haven't even _told_ Dad about Yue. I almost did, once. But I can't. Not now, anyway. Maybe after the war.

But I miss them both. And that makes me feel guilty. I'm not even sure which one I feel guilty about. But... it was easier before. To forget about her, I mean. Yue. We were so busy. And we lived in the sun, you know? Well, metaphorically, anyway. Maybe it just seems like we did then because now I feel like I'm living in the moonlight. Like there's a pallor over everything. And there's so much waiting. So many empty moments. It's harder to keep the thoughts at bay. So then on nights like tonight, when I'm sitting here with you, and she's shining down…

But I miss Suki, too. And I'm worried about her. She was helping ferry refugees into Ba Sing Se. So when Ba Sing Se fell...

It's just... I don't know what happened. I don't know where she went. I don't know if she's okay. The only thing I _do_ know is that she can take care of herself. But I still wish... I mean, honestly, if the whole _you-sort-of-dying_ thing hadn't happened, I'd like to think that we would have tried to find her. But now… I just...

Did you really have to die? I mean, I know you didn't mean to. I just wish you hadn't.

I just wish a lot of things.

**Katara**

Hey, Aang. How are you doing? I'm okay. It's nice being on the beach, don't you think? It feels… right. Like it's the right place for us right now. A place where earth and water and air come together. A place where all of us can belong. It feels a bit like home. 

**Toph**

Welp. The good news is my sandbending is continuing to improve. The bad news is now that I can get a better look at him, I have to admit, Sokka was right. The Duke does have a crush on me! Ugh. So now I feel like I have to be a little more — what's the word Sokka uses? Aloof? Yeah, that. Which sucks because they're both kind of nice to hang out with.

At least, it's better than being alone. 

It's weird. I didn't used to mind being alone. Not that I liked it. It's just… I was used to it, you know? But now… it's starting to bother me. And with Sokka and Katara preoccupied and you, well, like this…

It's kinda making me think about things.

It's kinda making me… scared.

**Katara**

Hey, Aang, we're going to move you again. But it's for a good reason, I promise! We got a ship! Can you believe it? So now we can get moving again, which is nice because it just felt a little hopeless before. Like we weren't accomplishing anything. But now we're just packing up and we'll be on our way. 

**Sokka**

There once was a nomad named Aang.

Whose bending made people say 'Dang!'

But his powers, they thunk,

Were stored in his junk,

So they caught him and cut off his —

_"SOKKA!!!"_

**Hakoda**

Hello, Aang. This is Hakoda. You and I haven't actually met yet. I'm Sokka and Katara's father. She's usually the one in here, but she asked me to sit with you so she could go out on deck to get some fresh air. I couldn't argue with that after... well… 

It does get a little stuffy in here, doesn't it? Only a sliver of a window in this cabin and it doesn’t even open. I can see why she complained when we first moved you in here. But it is one of the safest spots on the ship. Takes longer to get here from the deck than the other rooms. In case we're boarded.

So… you're the Avatar, huh? That's gotta be… that's gotta be something. That's gotta be a lot. Especially on your own. Not that you're totally on your own. I mean, my kids have been there. Which I guess is what I'm trying to say. I won't deny I've been worried about them traveling with you, maybe even more so after you got hurt. But… I'm also glad. I'm glad you weren't alone. That's too much for a kid. That's too much for anybody. So if there's anything I can do to help... you just let me know, okay? You can always —

_"Katara! That was quick. I was just…"_

**Sokka**

Well, we made it past a Fire Nation blockade today. Went off without a hitch. I know it was my idea and all, but I've got to admit, I'm surprised it worked. And relieved. It's definitely lightened the mood around here.

Not that everything is perfect. And — I don't know — maybe I shouldn't complain. I know Katara likes to keep it positive when she's talking to you. Like you've got enough going on with healing and all. So she keeps it light, tells you how your color is starting to come back a bit, about how she likes your hair. Yeah, hair. It's... yeah, it's weird. Unnerving, maybe? I think it's because it makes you look more like a real kid, you know? Like a normal one, I mean. Less mystical or omnipotent.

Not that any of that matters. The truth is, in a lot of ways, despite our recent successes, we're not doing so hot right now. And Katara's having a hard time. Although she's doing a lot better now than she was before. Now that she's sleeping. And bathing. She's even started leaving you alone for short periods of time. She says you're more stable. Breathing and heartbeat even and all that. That it’s all up to you now. So yeah, you're better. So she's better. Mostly. But... she cries sometimes at night out on the deck. Says she just needs fresh air. And she probably does, but I think it's mostly so that no one will see her cry. Or maybe just so you won't hear. Just in case you are listening. 

But that's why I'm telling you, because you ought to know. This is hurting her. _You're_ hurting her. Not that it's your fault. And I don't blame you. How could I? You're the one who went in after her. You were trying to save her. And where was I?

Maybe all I really wanted to say is... I'm sorry. Maybe if Toph and I were there too... maybe it might have made a difference. Sure, we got the Earth King out, but I'm not particularly inclined to feel — that is — I'm not very happy with him at the — I mean — Ba Sing Se _fell_ . And _he's_ not here agonizing about the ramifications of that. Or trying to rally any sort of opposition. No! He just ran off into the wild with his stupid bear. And I'm just... let's just say I don't think the trade off was worth it. Saving him did nothing, and if there was a chance I could've helped... 

I guess in the end, I just wish you were here.

/ / /

_It was dark in the room when his eyes fluttered open. Only a few dim gas lamps and a metallic creak somewhere outside the room. The boy sat up and groaned, his body aching with disuse. He put a hand to his bandages and blinked to clear his eyes._

_“What happened?”_


End file.
